Stupid, Stupid
by hopelessromantic99
Summary: Full summary inside! When ordinary teenagers Marty Mcfly and Brielle Phelan are called by their mutual friend Doctor Emmett Brown to help him conduct an experiment- at 1:15 A.M.- they find that they get more than what they bargained for.
1. Summary

**Summary: **

First: Marty's late for school. He does this. This is his fourth time in a row, actually.

Then, Brielle makes a sarcastic comment at his expense. She's his best friend, but one of the brainy ones at school. These two traits aren't related... _or are they? _

Then the mysterious Doctor Emmett Brown (or 'Doc' - ditto on the braininess, times ten) calls them, urging them to accompany him on an experiment... _at 1:15 in the morning. _

And with that, two unexpected seventeen-year-olds are thrown into a chaotic world where if you even look at someone the wrong way, history will change. Big time. So are they super-smart sleuths who know how to do just about anything? Not really. More like two ordinary kids who are just as surprised as anyone to find themselves talking to their parents (when _they _were teenagers!), trying to solve countless problems, and carefully executing the perfect plan to change history. Anything else you should know about?

Oh yeah. There's a thing called love involved. Which complicates things. As love often does.

_Are you in, or are you out?_


	2. Heavy Stuff

**Okay, okay. I know it's been done. But really, I couldn't resist this. It was really fun trying to capture the essence of all the classic scenes while keeping my OC in it. Tell me what you think and I'll see you in Chapter 2 :) **

* * *

"Marty, I really don't think you should do that."

"Relax, Elle. I've got this." He knelt down, gently twisting the knobs to their full capacity. "We musicians are very familiar with this sort of thing, you know."

"I don't think musicians turn the volume all the way up on their amplifiers while they're in a garage." She smirked at him. "And take off those glasses, you look like a douche."

"Hey," Marty looked at her over his sunglasses. "Don't insult the glasses." He returned to the knobs, turning each one a near 360 degrees. "Lighten up, _Brielle_, or you're going to be a nun for the rest of your life."

"Ha ha. Don't call me that."

A low buzzing noise was beginning to fill the room; it was the only other sound, save for the synchronized ticking of multiple clocks lining the garage walls. The all read the same time, down to the second; 7:54 A.M. Elle supposed it was another one of the Doc's bizarre experiments, which he performed at least once a week. Doctor Emmett Brown- or 'Doc' as he was known to Elle and Marty- was one of their dearest and closest friends, and they respected his experiments greatly, although they never understood a word he said about them. _"Plutonium burglaries continue constantly and the Libyan owners are extremely upset..." _the morning news blared from a TV in the corner

"Hey, Elle, do the honors and turn the last knob," Marty said, gesturing to one on the very bottom corner.

"Why am I even friends with you…" Elle grumbled, but she turned the knob nonetheless. Marty stood a few feet back, an electric ukulele strapped around his shoulders. She joined him, staring at the gigantic speaker.

"You ready for this?"

"No."

Marty brandished the pick, its metallic coat gleaming in the morning sunlight. Elle barely even had time to distinguish it before Marty finally strummed a chord. The sound was louder than any band could ever make at a concert; the sound waves propelled them backwards, slamming them into a bookshelf behind them. With a small groan the wooden shelves fell forward on them, loose papers fluttering everwhere.

Marty and Elle stirred, clutter raining off of them and onto the floor. Elle stared at the sound system, squinting in the sunlight. Marty removed his sunglasses.

"_Whoa,_" Elle said, staring at the gigantic hole they had just made in the speaker.

"Rock and roll," Marty agreed.

The sound of an alarm sounding cut through the silence, announcing that someone was trying to call the landline. Marty and Elle scrambled up out of the wreckage and found the source: a black phone buried underneath the rubble. Both their hands landed on the handle at the same time.

"What, no fair! Mar-_tyyy!_"

Marty eyed her carefully. "Rock, paper, scissors."

They went through a quick round and she lost. With a smirk he picked up. "Yo." Elle leaned in to listen.

"Marty, is that you?" the Doc's voice crackled through the receiver. He sounded a bit frantic; but then again, he always did.

"Uh, yeah. Just here with Elle, say hi Elle," he held the phone in her direction.

"Hi Elle," she sniggered.

"It's good I found both of you, because I need you both to be at the Twin Pines Mall tonight at 1:15. I've made a major breakthrough and I'll need your assistance."

"Wait, wait, 1;15 in the morning?" Marty asked, shifting the phone to his other hand. "Doc, what's going on? Where've you been all week?"

"Working."

"Where's Einstein, is he with you?" Marty asked, referring to Doc's beloved pet.

"Yeah, he's right here."

"You know, Doc, you left your equipment on all week."

"My equipment? Oh, that reminds me, Marty, don't hook anything up to the amplifier, there's a slight possibility of an overload."

Elle snickered again when she saw the faint pink tinge appear on his face. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

At that precise second all the clocks lining Doc's walls went off: the cuckoos, the chimes, the bells, everything. Marty clapped his hands around his ears, which was a difficult task with the phone clasped in his hand.

"Jesus Christ!" Elle moaned over the noise. "Doc, what is that?!" Marty relayed this question to Doc with the lung velocity of a mountain lion.

"Ah, my lovely clocks! Yes, they proved my theory of relativity experiment! Those clocks are set 25 minutes back!"

Marty digested this information slowly. "Doc, are you- are you saying that it's 8:25?!"

"Yes, why?"

"Dammit! Elle, we're late for school!"

* * *

Marty tugged his headphones over his ears as he rolled down the driveway on his skateboard. Elle followed closely behind on her own, a brand new one Marty got her for her birthday a few weeks ago. She'd only learned how to skateboard when Marty had taught her a few months back, and after many bouts of tears, pleading, and compromising, her parents had finally let her ride to school the fun way: hanging on to the trunks of cars on a skateboard. Marty'd been doing it for years and nothing had happened- why shouldn't she?

They were never more than a few cars apart on the road. As the older one Marty often felt it was his responsibility to make sure she wasn't doing something stupid 24/7. Every so often he'd glance over at her and she'd glance back, and he'd mouth _'Okay?'_ And she would respond, _'Okay.'_

But one time- just the one- he glanced over at her and took in the image of her hair whipping in the wind, the angle of the sunlight hitting her face just right, creating quite an adorable illusion to her. Marty shook his head at his thoughts. _Elle being adorable... Riiiight. _But, he thought, it was possible. She was already pretty on her own. If she wore a little more makeup she actually could be pretty hot. He blinked. Why he was even thinking about it bothered him.

He let go of the black Volkswagen he'd been hanging onto for the past ten minutes and propelled himself toward the school, stopping only at the front steps to kick up his skateboard. Elle pulled up only seconds later.

"How do you always beat me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Magic," he replied with a smirk.

"Marty!" Jennifer burst through the front doors, her brown curls flying out behind her. "Don't come this way, Strickland's looking for you. If you get caught, it'll be four tardies in a row." She pulled them away from the front doors and around to a side entrance in the east wing. Elle hung back silently, watching Marty and his girlfriend make idle comments about the weather, Marty's choice of jacket, etc., etc. She couldn't help but feel a little left out. Ever since Marty had started dating Jennifer, Elle could feel herself slowly sliding out of his life. They used to have Bad Movie Fridays, where they would spend their Friday night seeing an awful movie either at home or the theater. Now his Fridays were constantly being taken up either by band rehearsals or Jennifer. Jennifer this, Jennifer that. Although the girl was nothing but sweet to Elle, she still had not privately accepted her as a member of their group.

Jennifer looked around the corner. "Okay, I think we're safe."

"You know, this time it really wasn't my fault," Marty said, putting an arm around her shoulders. Elle rolled her eyes. _Here we go again... _"The Doc set his clocks twenty-five minutes be-"

"Doc?" The hard, steely voice of none other than disciplinarian Mr. S. Strickland rang through the empty hallway. "Am I to understand that you're still hanging around that Doctor Emmett Brown, Mcfly?" He tutted as he scribbled tardies on his yellow notepad before tearing three out. "Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker," he said, handing it to Jennifer. "And one for you, Miss Phelan-" Elle looked like there was a bad smell in the air as she took hers- "And another for you, Mcfly. I believe that makes four in a row." Marty took the small yellow paper before crumpling it into his jacket pocket. "Now, let me give you a nickel's worth of free advice, young man. This so-called Dr. Brown is dangerous. He's a real nutcase."

"Oh, I bet," Marty said and started to walk away, but Strickland held him back.

"You've got a real attitude problem, Mcfly. You're a slacker. You remind me of your father when he went here. He was a slacker too."

"Can I go now, Mr. Strickland?"

"I noticed your band was on the roster for the auditions after school today. Why even bother, Mcfly? You're too much like your old man. No Mcfly ever amounted to anything in the history of Hill Valley."

Marty matched Strickland's tone. "Well, history is going to change."

* * *

"'Too loud.' I can't believe it," Marty complained later that afternoon after tryouts. "I'll never get a chance to play in front of anybody."

_"Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson!_" A van with a photo of Hill Valley's first black mayor drove around blaring the message through megaphones attached to the roof. "_Progress is his middle name!..." _

"Marty, one rejection isn't the end of the world," Jennifer said.

"I just don't think I'm cut out for music," Marty continued.

"Come on, Marty, don't say that, you've been playing guitar since you were ten. You were really good, honest," Elle admitted truthfully.

"And this audition tape of yours is _good_, Marty, you've got to send it in to the record company." She handed him the tape. "It's like what Doc is always saying-"

"If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything," Marty and Elle finished for her.

"Jinx, you owe me a soda!" Elle said quickly.

"But Elle, that's like, the fourth soda I've gotten you this week."

"And I care why?"

He sighed. "Dr. Pepper?"

"Diet."

Jennifer sighed impatiently, wanting to get back to the subject at hand. "It's good advice, Marty."

"What, the Jinx thing?"

"_No,_ Doc's quote."

"Alright, okay, Jennifer. What if I send in the tape and- and they don't like it? I mean, what if they say I'm no good? What if they say, 'Get out of here, kid, you got no future here'? I mean, I just don't think I can take that kind of rejection." They stopped at a bench, where Jennifer bent to tie her shoe. "Jesus, I'm starting to sound like my old man."

"Come on, he's not that bad. At least he's letting you borrow the car tonight."

Marty suddenly leapt onto the bench, mesmerized by a new spectacle. "Whoa, check out that 4 by 4." Elle, who knew next to nothing about cars, assumed he was talking about the black pickup that was being loaded onto a carrier. "That is hot. Someday, Jennifer. Someday. I'll get that car, and we'll drive up to the lake... throw a few sleeping bags in the back..."

Elle really couldn't stand much more of this. She dropped her skateboard back to the concrete and said, "Hey, Marty, I'll see you tonight? Our study date?"

"Yeah, Elle," Marty said as he leaned in to kiss Jennifer.

She skated away.

* * *

"Kids," Mrs. Mcfly announced warily, "We're going to have to eat this cake all by ourselves again, your uncle Joey didn't make parole again." She tossed the pan onto the table with a clank. "I think you should all drop him a line," she added, sitting down at the head of the table.

"He's your brother, mom!" Marty's older brother David pointed out. David, clad in his pizza delivery boy uniform, looked almost nothing like anyone else in the family- for one, he had short, black, curly hair, which earned him the nickname 'Sir Leprechaun' from Elle when she was in third grade and he was in sixth.

"Seriously, mom, it's an embarassment having an uncle in prison." Linda, his sister, began removing her curlers right there at the table. She resembled Mrs. Mcfly with her eyes and smile, but had Mr. Mcfly's strong nose.

"We all make mistakes in life, children," Mrs. Mcfly helpfully reminded everyone.

"God damn it," David said suddenly, standing up. He was halfway to the door before Mrs. Mcfly finally reacted.

"David, watch your mouth! Now come and kiss your mother before you leave, now."

"Okay, make it quick. I think I missed my bus. Bye, dad," he added, pecking the top of his father's head. "Wooo, time to change that oil!" he said, referring to his excessive use of hair gel.

"Hey, Marty, I checked your answering service while you were outside pouting over the car. Jennifer Parker called you twice," Linda said.

"I don't approve of her, Marty. Any girl who calls a boy is just asking for trouble," Mrs. Mcfly said, curls trembling indignantly.

_You go, Mrs. Mcfly, _Elle thought, pushing her peas around her plate with her fork. "Mrs. Mcfly, there's nothing wrong with calling a boy."

"It's terrible! Girls should never call boys! When I was your age I never called a boy or flirted with a boy or sat in a parked car with a boy..."

Elle leaned over to Marty, who was next to her: "It's amazing how you were even born." He snorted into his soda.

"Well, how am I supposed to meet anybody?" Linda was saying.

"Well, it just happens," Mrs. Mcfly said, patting her daughter's arm affectionately. "Like the way I met your father."

"Didn't your grandpa hit him with the car?" Elle asked.

Mrs. Mcfly nodded dreamily. "It was meant to be. And anyway, if grandpa hadn't hit him, then none of you would have been born."

"I still don't understand what dad was doing in the middle of the street," Linda mumbled.

"What _were _you doing, George? Birdwatching?" Mrs. Mcfly asked her husband vaguely. She didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, your grandpa hit him with the car and brought him into the house... he seemed so helpless, like a lost puppy. My heart went out to him."

"Yes, mom, you've told us the story a hundred times. You felt sorry for him, so you decided to go under the Fish Under The Sea Dance," Linda rattled these events off in a very bored way.

"No, it was the _Enchantment _Under the Sea Dance," Mrs. Mcfly corrected her. "Our first date," she went on, remembering. "I'll never forget it. It was the night of that terrible thunderstorm, remember George?" George Mcfly was mesmerized by the television, and he did not answer right away. "We kissed for the very first time on that dance floor," Mrs. Mcfly continued. "And it was then that I realized I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.

"Of course, that was the same dance where Elle's parents met," Mrs. Mcfly nodded at Elle, who smiled politely. "Isn't that right, Elle? Old Daniel and Lilly? How _are _they, I haven't seen them in _ages._"

"They're good, Mrs. Mcfly. Dad's a little swamped with work, but, you know. We're fine."

"I remember when they met, too," Mrs. Mcfly smiled faintly. "George introduced them, and oh, the sparks that flew that night! It was wild." She sighed dreamily. "That night was perfect."

* * *

The phone was ringing.

Elle raised her head from her calculus textbook, the page sticking to her cheek. She blinked and rubbed her eyes; apparently, she had fallen asleep on Marty's bedroom floor. How long had she been asleep? She checked the clock: 12:28.

She hoisted herself up and picked up the phone to stop that infernal ringing. "Hello?"

"Elle? Is that you?"

Doc. Of course. Who else would be calling this late?

"Uh, yeah."

His tone became suspicious. "What are you doing at Marty's house this late at night?"

"Oh, uh, nothing, Doc, nothing. I swear, it was a study thing. You know. School."

"Where's Marty?"

"Um-" Elle turned and got a full view of Marty's- er- unique sleeping posture. His face was buried in his pillow, with his legs hitched up almost to his chest. His arm hung over the edge of the bed.

Elle bit her fist to keep from laughing. "Sleeping," she choked out. "He's sleeping."

"Well, wake him up. I need you to pick up my video camera at my place before you come here. I left it."

"Okay. On our way." She put the phone back in its cradle.

* * *

They rolled in the vacant parking lot at exactly 1:16 A.M., with Marty toting the camera. Elle, who had two left feet and was all thumbs, was never to be trusted with carrying anything. They saw Doc's dog, Einstein, awaiting them near a white trailer. Doc was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Einstein," Elle cooed, kicking up her board. "Where's Doc, huh? Where is he?" she asked as she scratched behind his big floppy ears. As though in answer, the door to the trailer unfolded slowly, allowing bouts of steam to hiss out into the empty night air. A steely gray DeLorean rolled out onto the asphalt, headlights shining brightly into the night. With a hiss, the door swung open to reveal Doc holding a notepad and a pencil. He leapt out upon seeing them.

"Marty, Elle! You made it!"

"Uh, yeah, Doc-"

"Welcome to my latest experiment! This is the big one, the one I've been waiting for all my life!"

"Well, uh, it's a DeLorean-" Marty stammered, itching to see what this experiment was going to do.

"Don't worry, Marty, all of your questions will be answered within a few minutes. Start the camera."

Marty fumbled with the device. "Uh, Doc, is that a DEVO suit?" Elle asked, noticing the white suit for the first time.

"Never mind that now, never mind now. Not now. Elle, stand by Marty." Elle crossed in front of the camera and stood to Marty's right.

"Alright, I'm ready," Marty announced, holding up the camera.

Doc stood seriously in front of the DeLorean, his hands clasped together. "Good evening. I'm Doctor Emmett Brown. I'm standing in the parking lot at Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985—" Doc looked at his watch- "1:18 A.M. and this is temporal experiment number one. Come on, Einie. Hey, hey, boy, get in there." Einstein jumped into the driver's seat."That a boy! In you go. Sit your seatbelt on. That's it." Elle wasn't completely sure what was going on; if you summed the whole situation up, it was a dog driving a DeLorean. "Please note that Einstein's clock is in precise synchronization with my control watch. Got it?"

"Right, check Doc."

"Good." Doc pulled a box-like object out of the car before wishing Einstein a good trip. Upon closer inspection Elle found it was covered with all sorts of buttons and knobs.

"Doc, is that thing hooked up to the car?" Elle asked.

"Yeah. Watch this." Doc pushed a switch back and the car moved backwards.

"Jesus," Marty said quietly. Doc was controlling the car with his wacky remote. At least Einstein wouldn't get hurt.

The DeLorean backed up slowly, and Doc ushered them right in the car's path, the bright LED headlights glaring at them. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles an hour, you are going to see some serious shit." Doc pushed the switch forward and the car began to accelerate, the headlights becoming bigger and bigger with every second. Elle clutched Marty's arm, wondering if this was how deer felt on the road, when they were literally caught in the headlights- bright blue sparks emitted from the engine, almost lightning-like, encasing the car with its neon colors- Elle shut her eyes-

There was a sound not unlike a rocket blastoff, and a gust of wind blew, scattering leaves. Elle's eyes shot open and the first thing she noticed was the tire tracks burning on the asphalt. The DeLorean was gone. The only thing that remained was the license plate- OUTATIME. It twirled on the concrete before falling with a clatter.

"What did I tell you? 88 miles an hour!" Doc declared triumphantly. ""The temporal displacement occurred exactly 1:20 a.m. and zero seconds!"

Marty picked up the plate but dropped it when the hot metal burned his skin. He petitioned the Lord again as he stared out at the fire tracks.

"Jesus Christ, Doc, you've disintegrated Einstein!" Elle gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Oh, calm down, Brielle, I didn't disintegrate anything," Doc explained impatiently. "The molecular structure of both Einstein and the car are completely intact."

"Don't call me that! If you didn't disintegrate them, _where are they?_"

"The appropriate question is, 'when the hell are they?'" Doc ignored her vexed tone and looked at her with the bright eyes only a successful scientist could have. "You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveler! I sent him into the future. One minute into the future to be exact. At precisely 1:21 a.m. and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine."

Marty finally snapped out of his trance and turned to face Doc. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, Doc. Are you telling me that you made a _time machine... _out of a DeLorean?"

"The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?" Doc replied.

"That's _classic _Doc," Elle said so only Marty could hear her. He covered his snicker with a quick cough.

"Besides, the stainless-steel construction made the flux dispersal—" Doc was cut off by his stopwatch alarm. "Look out!" Doc yanked them all out of the way. There was the sound again, that rocket blastoff, and the car reappeared, skidding to a halt a few yards away. Elle went to open the door but she jerked her hand back.

Marty had resumed filming. "What? What? Is it hot?"

"It's cold," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Damn cold."

"Stand back," Doc said, and Elle took a few steps back. Doc slid a glove on and opened the door. Inside sat a perfectly fine Einstein.

"He's alright," Marty said in disbelief.

"He's fine. And he's completely unaware that anything happened! As far as he's concerned, the trip was instantaneous! That's why his watch is exactly one minute behind mine. He skipped over that minute to instantly arrive at this moment in time. Come here. I'll show you how it works." Doc leapt into the driver's seat. "First, you turn the time circuits on." He pulled a lever, and the machine powered up. _OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:21_ blinked red on one row labeled _DESTINATION TIME_. _OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:22_ appeared in green on the one below it that read _PRESENT TIME_. _OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:20 _on the last row that read _LAST TIME DEPARTED. _There was a whirring sound. Doc pointed at the red row. "This readout tells you where you're going." He pointed at the one in green. "This one tells you where you are." He pointed at the one in yellow. "This one tells you where you were. You input your destination time on this keypad." He indicated one near the ignition. "Say you want to see the signing of the Declaration of Independence." He typed in _JULY 04 1776 _into the red row."Or witness the birth of Christ." The red one then turned into _DEC 25 0000_. "Here's a red-letter date in the history of science. November 5th, 1955." The red row became _NOV 5 1955_. Doc sat there a minute, lost in thought. "Yes, of course. November 5th, 1955."

"What happened?" Elle asked.

"That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly. I was standing on the edge of my toilet hanging a clock. The porcelain was wet, I slipped, hit my head on the edge of the sink, and when I came to, I had a revelation, a vision, a picture in my head, a picture of this." He pointed to what looked like an upside-down peace sign in the back of the car. "This is what makes time travel possible. The flux capacitor."

"Flux capacitor." Elle repeated.

"It's taken me almost 30 years and my entire family fortune to realize the vision of that day. My God, has it been that long? Things have certainly changed around here." Doc got out of the car. "I remember when this was all farmland as far as they eye could see. Old man Peabody owned all of this. He had this crazy idea about breeding pine trees." He walked off.

"This is, uh, this is heavy-duty, Doc. This is great. Does it run on unleaded regular gasoline?" Marty asked. Doc turned around.

"Unfortunately, no. It requires something with a little more kick." He smiled wanly. "Plutonium."

"Plutonium," Marty repeated. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that this sucker is nuclear?"

"No, no, no, this sucker's electrical," Doc reassured him. "But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity I need."

_"Nuclear? _Doc, have you lost your mind?" Elle said. "You don't just walk into a store and buy plutonium! Where are you getting it?"

"From a group of Libyan nationalists. They wanted me to build them a bomb, so I took their plutonium and, in turn, gave them a shoddy bomb case full of used pinball machine parts." Doc said it like they were talking about the weather. "Come on. Let's get you two a radiation suit!" He walked back into the trailer.

Elle looked at Marty. Marty looked at Elle. In that moment, the same thought passed in between them: something big was about to happen.


	3. 1955

Marty held the camera steady as Doc carefully loaded a glass canister containing one beaker of plutonium into a chamber. Doc held the canister in place for a few seconds before the red liquid was sucked into the machine's insides faster than anything Elle had ever seen before. This movement made Marty jerk so bad he nearly elbowed her in the face.

"It's safe now," Doc announced, removing his face mask. "Everything's lead-lined. Don't you lose those tapes now, I need that as a record," he added to Marty. He started off for the driver's seat before doubling back again. "I almost forgot my luggage!" he picked up a steel suitcase and loaded it, weirdly, into the car's front hood. "Who knows if they've got cotton underwear in the future, I'm allergic to all synthetics."

"The future?" Elle said. "That's where you're going?"

"That's right. 25 years into the future," Doc affirmed, a faraway gleam in his eccentric eyes. "I've always dreamed of seeing the future, looking beyond my years, seeing the progress of mankind... I'll also be able to see who wins the next 25 World Series!"

Marty smiled wanly. "Hey, Doc. Look me- look us up," he said, glancing at Elle. "When you get there."

Doc returned his smile. "Indeed I will. Roll 'em." Marty shouldered the camera once more and gave Doc a thumbs up.

Doc opened the door, its characteristic hiss escaping into the night. "I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey." Then he began laughing. "What am I thinking of? I almost forgot to bring extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back? One pellet, one trip. I must be out of my mind." He leaned on the car door, clearly shocked at this lapse of concentration.

Einstein, who was in the trailer, started to bark. Doc looked at him. "What is it, Einie?" Einstein jerked his head to the right. Doc followed it and his face grew pale. He took a few steps forward, as though in a trance. "Oh, my God. They found me. I don't know how, but they found me. _Run for it, kids!_" Doc dived to the tralier.

Marty swiveled around, still holding the camera. "_Who?!" _

Doc pointed at the road, eyes frantic. "Who do you think?! _The Libyans!" _

Marty followed his gaze and found a blue, beaten up van coming their way, headlights blaring in the distance. A man emerged through the sun roof toting a machine gun- and it was pointed straight at them. "Holy _shit!_" Marty yanked Elle's arm down and brought her to the ground behind the DeLorean. The Libyans had started firing; bullets ricocheted off of the trailer and the DeLorean alike, pinging through the night air.

"I'll draw their fire!" Doc declared, removing a small pistol from his trunk. He aimed at the van and pulled the trigger: he was recieved only with an empty click.

_Click... click... click... _

Doc looked at his pistol in horror before retreating to the other end of the trailer. The van swerved around and cornered Doc, the sun-roof man cocking his gun threateningly. Doc stood there, eyes wide, his hands up. He even tossed his pistol off to the side, landing with a small clatter.

For a moment, no one moved a muscle. The seconds dragged on as Marty and Elle clung to each other, their ragged breathing becoming the only thing that filled the silence. Elle was too afraid to blink, too afraid that she would miss something-

The sunroof man pulled the trigger and opened fire on Doc, the bullets cascading down upon his chest like some kind of demented waterfall. They watched in terrified silence as Doc fell, as everything they had ever known fell to pieces at their feet...

Elle unfroze herself and disentangled herself from Marty. "NO! YOU BASTARDS!"

The gunman heard her- and pointed his gun right at Elle.

_"Elle-!" _

Marty leapt up from his hiding place and yanked her behind the trailer right as the gunman began firing again. "Elle, what were you _thinking,_ you could've _died-"_ Marty's voice went up three octaves on the words.

"They shot Doc, Marty! They shot Doc!" She shouted back, tears oozing out of the corners of her eyes. "The Doc's gone, Marty, he's gone!..."

"Oh, come on, Elle, don't cry, don't cry," Marty said, hurriedly wiping away her tears with his thumb. "Come on, now, let's try to get out of here-" They barely made it two steps before, with a screech from the tires, the blue van confronted them again. Elle shut her eyes, ready for the blow-

_Click... click... click... _

Elle opened her eyes a fraction of an inch. The Libyan was slapping his gun repeatedly, trying in vain to make it shoot. Elle risked a glance at Marty, whose eyes were still shut tight. She yanked his arm and pulled him to the DeLorean, diving through the open door. Marty, disoriented, was stuck with the driver's seat.

"_Go, go!" _The gunman shouted angrily. Marty pulled the door shut, started the ignition and floored it, the tires skidding across the wet pavement. They swerved dangerously close to the van before Marty yanked the steering wheel in the opposite direction. When he changed gears to make the car run faster, Elle noticed the time circuits switch on...

By this stage the Libyans had reloaded and resumed shooting. Marty drove like a maniac, zigzagging and swerving everywhere to try and confuse them. "Come on, move, damn it!" Elle screeched.

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Marty retorted, pressing his foot even harder on the pedal. The odometer leapt to 75 miles per hour but dropped again as he drove a hairpin turn around a curb and back into the open space of the vacant parking lot.

Marty checked on the Libyans in the rearview mirror: a man was resurfacing not with a machine gun, but with a huge, military-grade missile. Marty's eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

"What?" Elle demanded.

"Look at that sucker!"

Elle checked her own rearview mirror and almost lost it. "Oh my God!"

"Alright, let's see if those bastards can do ninety," Marty said before switching gears again. The DeLorean accelerated, flattening Elle to her seat. Elle glanced at the odometer and as she watched the needle pass eighty-five Doc's words rang through her mind. _"If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits eighty-eight miles an hour, you are going to see some serious shit." _

_Eighty-eight miles an hour. _

_Eighty-eight... _

"Marty, watch the odometer!" Elle finally blurted frantically.

"What?!"

"Watch the odometer!" Her words were drowned out by the overpowering mechanical hum of the engine. The neon blue sparks were flying out of the hood, the lightning was engulfing them with blue light-

And suddenly they were rolling down a vacant field, accidentally running into a scarecrow in the process. It landed face down on the windshield, smiling eerily at them. They both screamed at the sight, Elle's so high she was sure she would have cracked the windows. Some low hanging tree branches brushed the scarecrow away, but their relief was short-lived when they saw that they were headed straight for a barn. They crashed through the doors, scattering hay and dust into the air.

Elle sat there, too petrified to move. She looked over at Marty, whose mask had fallen over his head in the commotion. He looked at her. "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. "But what... just... happened."

"I don't know."

"We appear to be in a barn."

"Yes, we do."

"Why is there a barn in the middle of the Twin Pines Mall parking lot?"

"I don't know."

The barn door creaked open and there stood a family of four in their nightgowns, staring at the DeLorean as though they had never seen one before.

"What is it, pa, what is it?" a woman asked her husband fearfully.

"Looks like an airplane with no wings," the husband replied.

"That ain't no airplane, pa!" a little boy responded. "Look!" He handed his father a comic book. The man's gaze cut from the cover to the real thing repeatedly. _Oh, great, _Elle thought. _Now they're gonna think we're aliens._

She had no sooner finished the sentence in her mind before Marty accidentally tripped his door, causing it to open. He stumbled out still wearing his bright yellow suit and mask, and the family's piercing screams ripped through the air. They slammed the barn door shut again and their footsteps faded away back to the house.

"Wait, listen-!" Marty yelled as he tripped over a bale of hay. He flipped his mask on top of his head and propped himself on his elbows. A couple cows mooed from a corner of the barn.

Elle buried her face in her hands. "What am I going to do with that boy?.." she murmured to herself.

Marty carefully opened the barn door and peered out into the night. "Hello?" he called. "Uh, excuse me? I'm sorry about your barn," he said, jerking a thumb to the wooden panels behind him. Suddenly, a brilliant crack was heard and a bullet ripped past him and through the wood. Marty stumbled backwards, surprised by this new development, and fell over the doorframe.

"It's already mutated back into human form, pa! Shoot it, shoot it!" the little boy was screaming.

"Take that, ya mutatin' son of a bitch!" the man screeched. _Bam! Bam! _Two more holes in the barn.

Marty was scrambling around like a chicken with its head cut off. "Marty! Get your ass in here!" Elle demanded. Marty dove into the driver's seat and slammed his door shut before flooring the gas once more.

They burst through the barn again, leaving the family to scream and dive for cover as the DeLorean rampaged through the farmland. It even ripped down a pine tree in its path, causing the man great distress... although distress may have been a bit of an understatement.

"My pine!" He wailed. "Why, you-!" He was still shooting; Elle caught a glimpse of the name _Peabody _painted onto the mailbox before the man blew it off with a bullet.

_"I remember when this was all farmland as far as the eye could see! Old man Peabody had owned this land. I remember he had a crazy idea about breeding pine trees." _

* * *

"Alright, alright. Okay, Mcfly, get a grip on yourself. It's all a dream. A very... intense... dream," Marty babbled to himself as they flew down the highway, Elle hanging on for dear life as he sped past miles and miles of trees and farmland. The only thing that stood out from it was a sign for a new subdivision in the distance-

Elle's eyes widened. "Marty, stop the car!"

"What?"

"Stop the goddamned car!"

Marty switched pedals and floored the brakes, bringing them to a screeching halt in front of the colorful sign. "Jesus Christ," Marty said quietly, stepping out into the sun. Elle got out in a daze, entranced by the sight before her.

It was their neighborhood.

But it wasn't their neighborhood. Only the two lions perched on the stone signs that flanked the entrance were there. The rest of the land was still green farmland; Elle could even see the barest hint of mountains in the distance. _"Live in the home of tomorrow... today!_" the sign proclaimed. _"Lyon Estates: ground-breaking this winter."_ Pictured was a retro-style family standing in front of a house that eerily represented Marty's.

A low engine hum reached their ears. They turned and discovered a scarlet vintage Ford heading for them. It wasn't going very fast, just ambling along the dirt road. Marty walked up to the driver's side. "Listen, you gotta help us-"

An old woman in the passenger seat clutched the driver's arm. "Don't stop, Wilbur, don't stop!" she cried. The car sped off again, blowing dust into their faces. Marty stared after it.

"Marty, d'you- d'you think we've gone back in time?" Elle said, a quaver of fear in her voice .

"God, I hope not..."

"Remember- remember when Doc was showing us how to work it? He programmed it to November 5, 1955. And you were going 88 when the Libyans were chasing us..."

"It can't be," Marty said, plopping back in the DeLorean to check. The time circuits blinked once, and then went out. "This is nuts." He twisted the key in the ignition, planning to drive downtown and find out what was going on, but all he recieved was a quiet, whiny whir from the engine. Marty felt his blood turn to ice as he tried, in vain, to get the engine going again.

"What's wrong?" Elle said, walking over.

"Out of gas," Marty said, hitting the steering wheel angrily.

An annoying beeping noise came on; a light beside the fuel meter was blinking.

"And plutonium," Elle sighed.

* * *

_"Mr. Saaaandmaan... Mr. Saandmaaaann..." _A catchy jingle began playing outside a drugstore. Marty and Elle cautiously edged their way around a corner as though they were storming King George's fortress and not walking into town. A placard stood outside a movie theater advertising for the latest motion picture. Though a sold-out sticker had been slapped across it, Elle could still make out the title: _Cattle Queen of Montana_, starring Barbara Stanwyck and Ronald Reagan.

_Ronald Reagan? _

Marty was walking backwards, trying to absorb everything he was seeing. Elle followed, her head twisting and turning at everything that moved. A car honked at them and Elle jumped; she didn't remember walking out onto the street. Furthermore, she didn't know of any car shops that sold brand-new vintage cars.

Four young men in matching uniforms and caps stood to attention at a Texaco gas station. Another one of those vintage cars pulled up and they sprang into action, each one with a specified job: one filled the tires, one checked the engine, one washed the winshield, one pumped the gas... Elle stared, dumbfounded. That kind of service hadn't been available since the late 1950s. Marty gently tugged at her arm and pulled her into the clock tower square, where a few kids were tossing a Frisbee around. A man hoisted the American flag onto a flagpole.

A series of deep, majestic _bongs _rang out into the misty morning air. Elle swiveled around and faced the clock tower. Instead of the hands being permanently placed on 10:04, as it had always been, the time now read 8:30. Elle glanced at Marty. The clock tower hadn't worked since it had been struck by lightning thirty years ago...

_"Remember, fellow citizens, the future is in your hands,"_ a voice boomed. A black car decorated in red, white, and blue banners was driving by, two huge, old-fashioned speakers screwed onto its rooftop. A black-and-white photo of a smiling, balding man was depicted on the doors. "_If you believe in progress, re-elect Mayor Red Thomas. Progress is his middle name. Mayor Red Thomas' progress platform means more jobs, better education, bigger civic improvements and lower taxes. On election day, cast your vote for a proven leader."_

A man in a grey suit and hat dropped his newspaper in a metal wastebasket. Elle dove for it and flattened out the front page.

_Saturday, November 5, 1955. _

"Marty!" Elle whacked his arm to get his attention. "Look- look at the date. Right there."

His green eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. "Holy shit. This has got to be a dream."

Elle skimmed the articles on the page in disbelief. The photos printed showed men dressed in retro suits, women wearing poodle skirts and collared dresses, ads featuring discounts on Ford cars...

"Hey, look." Elle looked up. Marty was pointing at a cafe across the street. _Public telephone,_ a sign read inside. "If this really is 1955, we can call Doc."

"Are you sure he's even alive?" Elle asked, tossing the newspaper into the trash once again. Marty led her across the street.

"Sure he is. Remember, he said he came up with the flux thing in the 50's, so he'd have to be at least twenty or thirty right now. Come on." He pushed open the cafe doors. Elle took in the sight, wanting to remember everything. _Our 5 cent coffee 'urns' high praise!' _a sign declared. Two boys sat at the bar, carrying on a quiet conversation.A song from the jukebox played softly in the background.

"What'd you do, kid, jump ship?" the man behind the counter barked at Marty.

"What? No."

"Well, what's with the life preserver?" the man gestured to Marty's orange sleeveless jacket. It _did _kind of look like a life preserver, Elle reasoned with herself.

Marty fingered the edges of his jacket, suddenly self-concious. He felt out of place. Who was he kidding, he _was _out of place. "We just want to use the phone."

"Yeah, it's in the back."

"Thanks." Marty pulled Elle to the little booth. "You look, I'll dial," Marty said as they crowded inside.

"Okay. Okay." Elle flipped open the phone book to the _B'_s and ran her finger down the page. "Brown, Brown... found him. 5-4385." Marty worked the rotating dial and waited. The man from the counter walked by. A high-pitched beeping emitted from Marty's watch and the man doubled back and looked at them. Marty muffled the sound against the wall and the man walked away again, shaking his head.

Doc never answered, and Marty set the phone down with a crash. Elle quietly tore out Doc's page from the phone book before following Marty back out to the cafe.

"Hey, do you know where 1640 Riverside-" she began to the man, but he cut her off.

"Are you gonna order something, miss?"

_Rude, _she thought. "Uh, alright. Okay." She sat on the stool in front of him, with Marty to her left. "Give me a, uh, give me a Tab."

"A tab? I can't give you a tab unless you order something," the man chuckled.

Marty held a hand up on the table, signaling to her: _Let me do this. _"Give me a Pepsi Free," he said with a smug smile.

"You want a Pepsi, pal, you gotta pay for it," the man retorted. Marty's smile slid off and Elle giggled.

"Look, just give us something without any sugar in it, okay?"

"Something without sugar," the man repeated. He bent under the counter and produced two cups of coffee before leaving them. Elle propped her head in her hand; Marty stroked the back of his head, a habit he had when he was under stress. They were unaware, however, that they were copying the postures of two customers right next to them.

"Hey, Mcfly! Phelan!"

Marty and Elle turned around at the sound of their surnames. So did the two boys next to them. A tall, muscular boy stood in the doorway, his blond hair gelled in the distinct 50's style. The top two buttons of his red shirt were unbuttoned, revealing the top portion of this white undershirt.

Marty knew instinctively who it was. So did Elle. The arrogant grin, the beady little eyes.

"Biff," they whispered. Biff, a mutual 'family friend' was notorious for bribing and bossing around their fathers, who both worked under him.

"Hey, Mcfly, Phelan, I'm talking to you, you Irish scum," Biff said, walking right past Marty and Elle and to the two boys. "You guys get our homework finished?" Biff asked, gesturing to his little posse that was tailing him.

"Uh, well, actually, since we figured it wasn't due till Monday-" Mcfly began, but Biff grabbed his head.

"Hello? Hello? Anybody home?" he shouted, knocking on Mcfly's head. "Think, Mcfly, think!"

Though Biff looked angry, Mcfly kept laughing along with his cronies. "Okay, okay," he laughed, clearly wanting to come off as friendly.

"Well, it's true," Phelan piped up. "I mean, it's due Monday, we still have a full day-"

"I got to have time to recopy it," Biff said. "Do you realize what would happen if we turned in _our _homework in _your _handwriting? We'll get kicked out of school. You wouldn't want that to happen, would ya?"

Both boys remained silent.

"Would ya?!" Biff said, grabbing both of their collars.

"No, no, of course not, I wouldn't want that to happen..."

"Of course not, Biff..."

Biff noticed that both Marty and Elle were staring, openmouthed. "What are you looking at, buttheads?"

"Hey, get a load of this guy's life preserver," a boy said, grabbing Marty's jacket. "Dork thinks he's gonna drown."

"Look at that girl's pants!" Another said. "Hey, chick, are you wearing your father's pants or what?"

Elle remembered that girls weren't supposed to wear jeans in the 50's. She blushed and looked down at the tiled floor.

Biff returned to the two boys. "So how about our homework?"

"Okay, Biff. We'll finish that tonight and we'll bring it first thing tomorrow morning, okay," Phelan replied, using the same dorky laugh Mcfly had.

"Not too early, I sleep in Sundays. Oh, Phelan, your shoe's untied!" When Phelan looked down Biff smacked his jaw. "Don't be so gullible, Phelan."

"Okay," He laughed again.

"Remember, I don't want to see you buttheads in here again." Biff turned to leave, bringing his cronies with him.

"Okay. Alright. Bye bye," Mcfly said before turning back to his breakfast. Marty and Elle stared at their fathers, wide-eyed. They edged closer and closer to the real thing, each hardly daring to believe it-

Mcfly slammed his spoon down into his bowl, clearly uncomfortable. "What?"

Marty blinked. "You're George Mcfly," he croaked.

"And you- you're Daniel Phelan," Elle said to Phelan.

"Yeah. That's us. Who are you?" Daniel replied. Elle was about to answer before a tall African-American boy stuck his head in the conversation.

"Say, why do you let those boys push you guys around like that for?" he drawled. He was wearing a white shirt, white apron, and a white cap was balanced on his head.

"Well, they're bigger than us," Daniel answered, pulling out his wallet.

"Yeah, if we fight back, they'll hurt us," George agreed.

"Stand tall, boy. Have some respect for yourself. Don't you know, if you let people walk over you now, they'll be walking over you for the rest of your life. Look at me. You think I'm gonna spend the rest of my life in this slop house?"

"Watch it Goldie," the man behind the counter said.

_Goldie? _

"No sir! I'm gonna make something of myself. I'm going to night school, and one day, I'm gonna be somebody."

"That's right!" Marty blurted out. "He's gonna be mayor!"

Goldie grinned in a dreamy sort of way at Marty, revealing a gold front tooth. "Mayor!" Clearly the idea had never occurred to him. "Now _that's _a good idea! I could run for mayor!"

"A colored mayor, that'll be the day," the old man said as he walked by, toting a broom.

"You wait and see, Mr. Curuthers, I will be mayor. I'll be the most powerful man in Hill Valley, and I'm gonna clean up this town."

"Good. You can start by sweeping the floor." The man, Mr. Caruthers, handed Goldie the broom. Goldie just stood there and smiled.

"Mayor Goldie Wilson. I like the sound of that." He picked up the empty dishes left by Daniel and George as he walked by. Marty was about to take a sip from his coffee before he realized that the two boys were gone. He slammed down his cup, slopping coffee everywhere. Elle heard little _ring-ring_ from outside; they turned, and there their parents were, cycling away.

Elle threw a couple of nickels down before banging out the door after her father. "Hey, dad! Er, Daniel! You guys on the bikes!" They ran after them.

* * *

**So there you have it. I added Elle's father because I wanted the story to be different, but not _too _different. Believe me, the classic's great, but I didn't want to bore you guys with the same storyline. Her father won't be a big player in the story, he'll just appear from time to time just to liven things up a little. So there's that. Thanks for reading! :) **


	4. Lorraine and Doc

They chased them down, following the bright green bikes corner after corner, street after street. Elle wasn't much of a runner, and nor was Marty. They rounded a corner and looked for their guides, but they were gone.

Elle looked around. They seemed to be in a neighborhood. Maybe her dad and George lived here and had already put away their bikes? The thought diminished immediately when she saw one of the bikes parked next to a tree. Elle looked around: there was no sign of the boys. That is, until a leaf fell.

Elle gently touched Marty's arm and gestured upwards. George was wrapped around a tree branch, binoculars pressed to his face.

"What's he looking at?" Elle whispered to Marty.

"Dunno..." Marty followed George's gaze and saw a young girl undressing in front of her open bedroom window. A sudden realization struck him. "He's a Peeping Tom!"

"_What_?" Elle giggled. As George inched up the branch to get a better he must have lost his grip because he rolled over and was left gripping the tree with only one hand. His hand slipped and he landed in the road, disoriented, just as a car was pulling up.

"Dad, look out!" Marty shrieked. He ran out into the road and pushed his father out of the way before absorbing the blow that landed on him instead. He landed on his back a few feet away, his head hitting the concrete with a dull thud.

Elle held a hand to her mouth, shocked. The sound of the car door slamming jolted her out of her trance and she ran to her now unconcious friend. "Marty? Marty? Come on, Marty, wake up..." she slapped his face a bit, but his head just rolled around uselessly. "Come on, Marty!"

The driver of the car came around and looked at her. "Who are you?"

Elle was speechless. "I- I'm- er-"

"Never mind that now. _Stella_!" he yelled. "Another one of these damn kids jumped in front of my car!" He bent down next to Elle. "Hey, miss, you help me heave him on into the house, hear?"

"Yes sir," Elle nodded. She stuffed her hands under Marty's arms and he grabbed his ankles. The man led her to a pretty blue house just across the street. He banged on the door with his foot.

"Stella! Open the door!"

"I'm coming, dear!" Stella called. A few seconds later a thin, smiling woman opened the door. "Yes?"

"Another one of those kids jumped in front of my car. I'm going to put him in Lorraine's room for the day, you know, so he can rest." The man started moving inside.

"Oh, not _again, _Sam!" Stella moaned. "I keep _telling _you and _telling _you to watch where you're going-"

"I _was_ watching where I was going, but the boy just appeared out of nowhere, he just fell outta the sky!" They were moving up the stairs now. "Come on, girl, this way," he added to Elle before entering a room. It was a girl's room, no doubt about that: a pretty floral design covered the walls, and a large dresser stood against one wall with a lovely round mirror. Bottles of nail polish and face powder littered the top. A small bookshelf sat in the corner.

"Come on, now, let's get him into bed." They dumped Marty onto the bed, which was neatly made. Elle sank into the window seat, shaking. Marty was just hit by a car. They were in a stranger's house. They had just met their teenaged fathers. In 1955. "There we go, he should be fine."

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't mention it," he said gruffly. He was about to leave but he turned around again. "By the way, what's your name?"

Elle opened her mouth to say it was Elle, but she quickly remembered that she was in a different time period, that she did not belong. "Um... Anne."

"Anne?" Sam asked, fishing for a last name.

"Just Anne."

"Is this here fella your brother or what?"

"Er... brother. He's my brother."

Sam held up his hands. "Alright. Don't hesitate to ask me or Stella for anything, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks again."

He shut the door. Elle sat there, the only sound breaking the silence being Marty's soft breathing. She looked at him and felt a rush of warmth. He looked so innocent, so helpless, like a... like a...

_Like a lost puppy. _

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Elle murmured, burying her head in her hands. What was happening? This was her best friend, this was the guy she'd known since, what, second grade? She wasn't supposed to like him. She was supposed to just be his best friend, be the person who was there when he was down, when he was stressed out, when he just needed a laugh. That was who she was supposed to be. Sure, Marty was cute, and sure, he was cool and all, but he was like her brother. After all, who would date their own brother? And even if she did like him, it wasn't like she could date him. He was dating Jennifer, and he wouldn't break up with her over something as trivial as Elle... She put her hand in her pocket and fingered the page from the phone book.

_Doc! _She thought suddenly, unfolding the page in her lap. She still had to find him, she couldn't just sit here and do nothing... but Marty was still out, she couldn't just leave him...

_Well, whatever, _she thought. Henry and Stella seemed like nice people. They could take care of him for a while.

Right now, she had business to attend to. And she was going to get that business done.

* * *

_Or not_, she thought as she tried on another dress in the boutique. She had to pass through downtown again to get to Doc's old address after a kind businessman gave her directions. As she walked past the shops and diners the boy's scathing remark went through her head again. _"Hey, chick, are you wearing your father's pants or what?" _Funny, because her father was there when he said that...

So her girly instincts kicked in and she found a decent shop and tried on nearly every dress in the place. And the one next door. And the one next to that one. Hey, it wasn't every day a girl got to buy original vintage pieces for their original price. Although she loved every dress she tried on she found three that she just couldn't bear to part with, and she bought them for a total of $2.10. Not bad. By the time she finished night was falling, so she hurried back to Sam and Stella's house with her purchases tucked away under her arm in a box.

"Ah, Anne! You're back!" Stella exclaimed when she opened the door. "Just in time for dinner too! Do tell us you're staying."

"Um, yeah. If you want me to, of course."

"Of course we want you to. Dinner'll be out in a moment, just wait at the table." She bustled over into the kitchen.

Elle set her box down on the counter and found a place at the table. She waited quietly for a few minutes, still trying to absorb just exactly what was happening. Sam sat on the ground, fiddling with a television set.

"Oh, I'd better go and wake up that young man. I bet he's hungry now," Stella said to herself as she started up the stairs. There was a thud. "_Lorraine? Are you up there?" _

Elle's insides jolted; once Marty was awake, then they could go looking for Doc, for real this time. She glanced at her reflection in a glass cabinet, quickly smoothing her hair down and making sure she looked presentable.

Wait a second. This was Marty Mcfly. He'd seen her when she was disgusting before and never said anything about it, why start caring about her looks now? But her heart still leapt out of her chest when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"...So how long you been in port?" Stella was asking.

"What?"

"You're a sailor, right? That's why you're wearing that life preserver."

"Yeah, Coast Guard," Marty said, finally relenting.

"Sam, this is the young man you hit with your car outside. Thank God he's alright."

He looked up at them. "What were you doin' in the middle of the street, a kid your age?" he demanded.

"Oh, just ignore what he says, he's in one of his moods again," Stella chirped. "Come follow me into the dining room..."

Elle's heart was hammering out of her chest. His eyes landed on her and he grinned.

"Oh, thank God you're alright," she said, standing up and throwing her arms around him. He staggered a bit with the sudden weight, patting her back awkwardly.

"Thanks a lot, Elle."

Elle took notice of a girl standing beside him and almost gasped out loud: she was his mother. No doubt about it. Instead of wrinkles pulling at her face or a muffin top, her skin was clear and young, her waist thinner than Elle could possibly imagine. Her thin mouth was curling up into a sneer at the sight of Elle. Clearly she was jealous. Elle smiled sweetly at her and pulled Marty into the chair next to hers.

Stella went around the table introducing everyone. "This is Milton, this is Sally, this is Toby, and over there in the playpen is little baby Joey! Sam, quit fiddling with that thing and come and eat your dinner!" Stella added to her husband. "Well, I hope you like meatloaf, Marty and Anne..."

"Anne? Who's-?"

"Well, that's your sister, isn't it? Anne Klein?" Stella raised her eyebrows.

Marty looked at Elle. Elle looked at Marty. She shrugged.

"Yeah. That's us," he said, putting an arm around her. "Calvin and Anne Klein."

"Oh, ho, ho! Look at it roll!" Sam hooted triumphantly, wheeling in the TV he had been messing with. "Now we can watch Jackie Gleason while we eat." The rest of the family fixed their attention on the TV, but Lorraine kept her eyes on Marty.

"Our first television set," she said shyly. "Dad just picked it up today. Do you have a television?"

"Well, yeah, you know, we have... two of them."

"Wow!" said one of the little boys. "You must be rich!"

"Oh, honey, he's teasing you, nobody has two television sets," Stella said good-naturedly.

Silence descended on the table once more as everyone returned their attention to the TV. In flickering black-and-white, a man appeared through a doorway, covered head to toe in aluminum foil and cardboard boxes. A metal pot sat on his head in a comical way. Elle nearly choked on her potatoes.

"Hey. Hey, I've seen this one, this is a classic!" she blurted. "This is where Ralph dresses up as a man from space!"

"What do you mean you've seen this?" the boy said. "It's brand-new."

"Yeah, well, er, I saw it on a... rerun," Elle said, remembering where she was.

The boy stared at her. "What's a rerun?"

Elle looked away. "You'll find out..." she mumbled, feeling her face heating up.

Stella propped her head in her hand thoughtfully. "You know, you look so familiar. Do I know your mother?"

Marty took a fearful glance at the teenaged Lorraine beside him. "Yeah, I think maybe you do."

"Well, I want to give your mother a call. I don't want her to worry about you guys."

"You can't," Marty blurted. "That is, uh, nobody's- nobody's home."

"Oh."

"Yet," he added, in case she got the wrong idea.

"Oh," she said again.

"Uh, listen, to you know where Riverside Drive is?" Elle jumped in, rescuing him.

"That's on the other side of town, a block past Maple," Sam said, not looking away from the TV. "East end of town."

"A block past Maple, that's John F. Kennedy Drive," Elle worked out the directions out loud. Sam tore his eyes away from the TV to look at her.

"Who the hell is John F. Kennedy?"

"Um, mother?" Lorraine said, her voice high-pitched and innocent-sounding. "With their parents out of town, don't you think they oughta spend the night? After all, Dad almost killed Marty with the car."

"That's true, guys," Stella said. "I think you should spend the night, I think you're our responsibility."

"Gee, thanks, Mrs. Baines..."

"I mean, I don't know..."

"And Marty can sleep in _my_ room."

Marty suddenly leapt up as though he'd been electrocuted. He grabbed Elle's wrist and pulled her up with him. "Thanks everyone, it was wonderful, you were all great. Uh, we'll see you all later." Marty opened the door. "Much later," he murmured before fleeing into the night with Elle in tow.

* * *

"Marty, what happened? You just shot up and left!" Elle exclaimed as they walked through the sweet-smelling streets. It was wet outside; it had rained.

"She was like, _Oh, he can sleep in my room-_" he mimicked his mother's voice with a high-pitched falsetto- "And then _bam! _She squeezed my leg. She wants me, Elle, and it's weird."

"Oh, God, are you telling me your own mother was hitting on you?"

"Yes! It's creepy as hell, I know!" He noticed her dress box. "What's in the box?"

"Nothing you need to know about. Come on, I think I see 1640 up there."

A huge wooden mansion dominated the hillside, with a brick pathway leading up to it. Elle ran up to the mailbox and checked the number: 1640, right on the dot. She nodded at Marty, who ran up to the front door. He rapped his knuckles three times on the expensive-looking wood.

"Elle, are you sure about this?"

"Positive. We're at the right address, aren't we?" She was about to knock again but her knuckles fell forward as the door flew open. A visibly younger, less-silver haired Emmet Brown appeared in the doorway, a huge metal contraption strapped to his head. "Doc-"

"Don't say a word," was all he said before pulling them inside.

"Doc-!"

"I don't want to know your name. I don't want to know anything about you." Doc crossed over to a metal cube with a myriad of different-colored switches and buttons.

"Doc, it's us, it's Elle and Marty-"

"Don't tell me anything. Quiet. _Quiet!"_ He stuck a blue, plunger-like thing to Elle's forehead with a soft _plop!_ Elle stared at him.

"Doc, what're you-?" Marty started.

Doc ignored him. "I'm going to read your thoughts. Let's see now." The machine hummed and smoked, with a couple of beeps thrown in. Elle stood there, absolutely bewildered. "You come from a great distance?"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Elle exclaimed. "We-"

"Don't tell me!" Doc shushed her, and Elle fell silent. "Uh, you want me to buy a subscription to the _Saturday Evening Post?_"

"No!" Elle said, all hopes of recognition fading from her voice. "No, we-"

"Not a word, not a word now!" Doc reminded her impatiently. "Uh..." he clutched the metal hat, now blinking yellow and red. "Donations! You want me to make a donation to Coast Guard Youth Auxiliary!"

"Doc," Elle said, ripping the thing off her head. "We're from the future. We came here in a time machine that _you _invented." Elle explained all of this as though she were speaking to a child. "We need your help to get us back to the year 1985," she said slowly and clearly.

Doc looked at her with slightly more reverance. He stepped forward and clutched her shoulders. "Do you know what this means?" Elle shook her head, confused. "It means that this damn thing doesn't work at all!" he proclaimed, unbuckling the metal hat. Elle sighed in defeat.

"Doc, you gotta help us," Marty jumped in, following Doc into what looked like the living room. "You are the only one who knows how your time machine works."

"Time machine?" Doc whispered, touching a bandage plastered to his temple. "I haven't invented any time machine."

Marty sighed. "Okay, alright. I'll prove it to you." He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Look at my driver's license. Expires 1987. Look at my birthday for crying out loud, I haven't even been _born _yet." Doc still looked unconvinced. "Still don't believe me? Look at this picture. It's my brother, my sister, Elle, and me. Look at my sister's sweatshirt." Doc took the picture in a huge pair of wooden tweezers. "_Class of 1984._"

"Pretty mediocre photographic fakery," Doc said coolly, tossing the picture aside. "They cut off your brother's hair."

"Doc, we're telling the truth," Elle said earnestly. "You gotta believe us."

"Then tell me, future kids. Who's the President of the United States in 1985?"

"Ronald Reagan," Marty answered confidently.

"Ronald Reagan? The actor? Ha!" Doc spat. He furtively began to collect rolls and rolls of blueprints into his arms. "Then who's the Vice President? Jerry Lewis?" Doc ran out the door and into the night.

"Wait, Doc!" Marty called as they ran after him, their feet sloshing in the lawn mud.

"I suppose Jane Wyman is the First Lady!" Doc yelled over his shoulder. "And Jack Benny is the secretary of the treasury!"

"Doc, you gotta listen to us!" Elle said, catching him just as he reached the garage door.

"I've had enough practical jokes for one evening, good night future kids!" Doc shrieked before closing the door.

"No, Doc, wait! The bruise- the bruise on your head, I know how it happened. You told us the whole story!" Elle called through the wood.

"Shit, that's right! Doc, you were standing on your toilet, you were hanging a clock-"

"-And you fell and hit your head on the sink-"

"-And that's when you came up with the idea for the flux capacitor-"

"-Which is what makes time travel possible!" they both finished. They stood there for few seconds, panting. The garage door opened once again to reveal Doc, his brown eyes wide with astonishment.

* * *

"There was something wrong with the starter," Marty said as they drove up to Lyon Estates in Doc's white Packard. "So we hid it here." They got out and carefully brushed away the tree branches concealing the DeLorean. Doc stared at it.

"After I fell off my toilet," he began, "I drew this." He held up a pice of copy paper with a hasty drawing of the upside-down peace sign. A couple of equations had been scrawled next to it.

"The flux capacitor," Marty murmured. He opened the door and flicked on the real thing. He pointed and grinned in a sort of grim way.

Doc fell on his knees, staring at the thing. For a second Elle thought he might faint. "It works!" he yelled into the night. "I've invented something that works!" he said, grabbing Elle's collar in excitement.

"You bet your ass it works," Elle whispered.

"We've got to find a way to sneak this back to my laboratory." He clutched her tighter. "We've got to get you home!"


	5. Back To School

**So here is Chapter 5. I've wondered just how much of Elle's thoughts I should include, and it was something I totally slaved over for three days. It's quite hard to write about something you can't really relate to. I've never been in love with my best friend, so I had to imagine what it would be like. I'm still not sure if I got it right, though.**

**Quick note on the title change: _Stupid, Stupid _is this song I've been fangirling over for a few days. Essentially it's about this couple who has dumb fights all the time and they call each other 'stupid'... but they still love each other :-) I thought it summed up Marty and Elle's relationship in a nutshell. It's by Alex Day, if you're interested. **

* * *

"Marty, are you _sure_ you know what you're doing?" Elle smirked, watching Marty fiddle with the TV. He was trying to hook up the footage from the video camera to Doc's TV.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm a guy, guys know about these kind of things," Marty reassured her. "Just sit back and watch the master." A couple of sparks flew out of the back of the TV and Marty pulled his hand back. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?"

"Damn thing shocked me."

"...Do you need any help now?"

Marty looked at her and gave a resigned sigh. He nodded.

Elle leapt up from her perch on the couch. "Move," she elbowed him out of the way and took a look at the wires in the back. "So what don't you get?

"See, I'm not sure which wire goes where. If you put the wire here, the image is a little fuzzy..." Marty crossed a wire to another. Elle leaned over and looked at the screen.

"I see it," she said before ducking back behind it again.

"But if you put it here-" Marty crossed it again- "Everything-"

"-becomes clear," she finished with him. She looked at him. The brown eyes met with the blue with a startling clarity, a dawning realization- she just wasn't sure what. It was an odd feeling, a warm one, a fond one, a _passionate _one... her heart sped up beyond belief as he leaned in closer to her, his lips, the lips she found herself wanting on her own, only two inches away-

"Well? Have you set it up yet?" Doc asked, completely unaware of what was going on behind his television set.

They jumped back, startled. Elle hadn't realized that Doc had come in. "Eh, yeah. Here it is, Doc." She stood up and went around to the front, next to Doc. Marty stood on his other side.

_"Never mind that, never mind that now. Not now," _an older, black-and-white version of Doc said on the TV.

"Why, that's me!" Doc exclaimed gleefully. "I'm an old man!"

_"Good evening. I am Doctor Emmet Brown, I'm standing in the parking lot of the Twin Pines-" _

"Thank God I've still got all my hair!" Doc interrupted his future self. "What's that thing I'm wearing?"

"That's a radiation suit," Marty replied, hitting the fast-forward button on the video camera.

"Radiation suit?" Doc repeated. "Of course. Because of all the fallout from the atomic wars." Doc stood up and his attention shifted to the video camera on top of the TV. "This is truly amazing," he said, picking it up. "A portable television studio. No wonder your President's an actor. He's got to look good on television."

"Hey, wait, this is it, Doc," Marty said, gently pushing the camera back to the TV again. He hit the _play _button.

_"-this sucker's electrical_," Future Doc was saying. _"But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts-" _

"What did I just say?" Doc asked. Marty rewound the tape.

_"-electrical. But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts-" _

"_1.21 gigawatts!_" Doc exploded in disbelief, running both of his hands through his white-blond hair. He wandered away by the DeLorean. "1.21 _gigawatts! _Great Scott!" He disappeared through a door.

Elle was afraid he might have a stroke. "Doc-!"

"_What the hell is a gigawatt?!" _Marty demanded before running through the door after them.

* * *

"How could I have been so careless?" Doc was saying. "1.21 gigawatts! How am I going to generate that kind of power?" he grabbed his framed picture of Thomas Edison. "It can't be done!"

"Come on, Doc, drink some water..." she coaxed him, handing him a Dixie cup. She took the picture and but it back on the mantlepiece.

"Doc, all we need is a little plutonium," Marty told him.

"I'm sure that in 1985, plutonium is available in every corner drugstore, but in 1955 it's a little hard to come by. Guys, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're stuck here!" Doc held his head in his hand, looking like a child who had just gotten spanked.

"Whoa. Whoa. I can't be stuck here! _We _can't be stuck here, we've got a life in 1985! I- I got a girl!" Marty said, his voice cracking.

Doc sat up. "Is she pretty?"

Marty sat back. "She's beautiful, Doc. She's crazy about me. And look-" he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of blue paper. He flattened it on his knee and held it up for Doc. "Look at this. I mean, this says it all."

Elle looked at it. "'_Save the Clock Tower_'?" she read.

"No, no, the other side."

She took it and flipped it over. On the back, scrawled in Jennifer's distinct hand, was a phone number. _I love you! _was written beneath it. Elle felt a strange urge to kick something.

"Doc. You're our only hope," Marty was saying.

"I'm sorry, Marty, but the only power source capable of generating 1.21 gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning!"

Elle turned the paper over. _Save the clock tower! _it proclaimed in big block letters. An idea was worming its way into her head. "Doc, what did you just say?"

"A bolt of lightning!" he repeated. "Unfortunately, you never know when or where it's going to strike!"

_Hill Valley's historic clock tower has not properly worked since it had been struck by lightning on November 12, 1955, at 10:04 P.M... _

"You guys..." Elle held up the paper. "_This _is it! _This is the answer! _Remember, Marty, the clock tower? It's going to be hit by lightning a week from now at-" she consulted the paper- "10:04 P.M.!"

"Great Scott," Doc muttered. "If we could somehow _harness_ that power-"

"Channel it, so to speak-"

Marty could practically see the gears in both of their heads turning.

"-to the flux capacitor-"

"-_it just might work._" Elle stood there, staring at Doc, breathless. Doc regarded her skeptically.

"How is it that you managed to think of the same thing I did?"

"Doc, she's top of my class," Marty interjected. "She won the science fair last year, what do you expect?"

Elle felt a pink tinge blooming on her cheeks. "Marty, we both did, remember? We did the project together."

"Yeah, but I'm no good at science. You know I passed off the work to you."

"Yeah, but-"

"Enough of this hormonal distraction!" Doc declared. "Next Saturday, I'm sending you kids back to the future!"

"Alright, alright!" Marty jumped up. "Saturday's good, Saturday's good. We could spend a week in 1955! We can hang out, you can show us around-"

"Marty, that is completely out of the question," Doc cut in to his little monologue, looking gravely serious. "You must not leave this house. You must not see anybody or talk to anybody. Anything you do can have serious repercussions on future events. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Okay."

"Have you two interacted with anybody else today besides me?"

Marty hesitated.

"Well, I might've bumped into my parents..."

"And I kind of talked to my dad..." Elle stared at the floor guitily.

"Great Scott! Let me see that photograph again of your brother." Doc seemed to be getting very uneasy. Marty took the photo out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Just as I thought. This proves my theory. Look at your brother."

David's head was gone. There was no white or black spot to indicate that it had been there before; the garden backdrop just filled in the empty space, as though he had been headless to start with.

"His head's gone," Marty observed.

"Like it's been erased," Elle added.

Doc looked up from the picture, staring into space. "Erased from existence," he croaked.

* * *

Doc took them out for a mini shopping spree to get some fifties' clothes. They had to blend in, Doc had said. He looked extremely relieved when Elle had told him she had already done her shopping earlier that day. As Doc and Marty haphazardly threw some shirts onto their arms (boys have no idea how to shop) Elle wandered to the makeup counter, a small corner way in the back. Wanting to get the real look, she purchased black liquid eyeliner and a tube of red lipstick.

The next morning was awful. Marty had woken up earlier than Elle and beat her to the shower. Marty took ridiculously long showers- he always had- so Elle brushed her teeth and scarfed down some toast Doc had laid out for them; they switched roles the second he got out. And, since Doc only had one bathroom, they had to share the mirror.

"Marty, you're crowding my side," Elle huffed as she carefully applied a thin line of eyeliner on her top lid.

"Well, you're crowding _my _side!" He scooped a handful of Vitalis onto his hand and worked it into his hair. "God damn it, Elle, why did you have to tell them we were siblings? We don't even look alike."

"Well, I'm sorry, it was the first thing that came to my mind!" she hissed. "I seem to recall you were unconscious!"

"But really? _Calvin and Anne Klein?" _

"Well, wear different underwear next time!" She uncapped her new lipstick. "You talk in your sleep," she added in answer to Marty's incredulous look. He watched her apply her lipstick for a few seconds. She looked at him. "What?"

"Why do you have to wear that stuff, Elle? It's not like you need it."

She turned the color of her lipstick. "So I blend in," was all she said.

They split to different areas of the house to change clothes. When they came back, they hardly recognized one another.

"Nice shirt," Elle smirked. It was a scarlet red with rings patterned on it. He had it tucked in and everything.

"Nice dress," he imitated her. Elle looked down at her dress. It had was a lovely lilac color, with a Peter Pan collar in the front. Several buttons led down to the waist. She gave him a dirty look before heading out to Doc's Packard, where he was waiting for them.

Doc enrolled them at Hill Valley High School as their uncle, keeping true to the story that Elle and Marty were supposed to be siblings. Elle kept shifting in her seat uncomfortably; everything was so new, so different. There were different posters on the walls, different books, even different pencils, for God's sake. They were released into the hall- they were supposed to go to first period- but Doc held them back.

"Now remember." Doc said. "According to my theory, you interfered with your parents' first meeting. If they don't meet, they don't fall in love, they won't get married, and they won't have kids. That's why your older brother's disappearing from that photograph. Your sister will follow, and unless you repair the damage, you'll be next."

"Um, Doc?" Elle said in a tiny voice. He looked at her. "My future relies on this too."

He blinked. "How so?"

"_My _parents met because Marty's parents introduced them at some dance. So- so if Marty's parents don't go-"

"-Then your parents will never meet," Doc finished in a whisper. "Great Scott. This is worse than I thought." He turned to the two of them. "Which one of you is older?"

Marty raised his hand.

"By how much?"

"Two months."

"You two are born so close together that you will _both _start disappearing at the same time if your parents don't meet," Doc told them, his eyes wide. "Marty will start first, naturally, but Elle will start only moments after."

"Oh my God," Elle said, her face pale.

"Sounds heavy," Marty agreed.

"Weight has nothing to do with it," Doc said, confused. The bell rang, and immediately the halls filled with young bobbysoxers laughing and chatting, without a care in the world. Elle had almost forgotten what that had felt like.

Doc bent down next to them. "Do any of you see your parents?"

It was Marty's turn to pale as he pointed at a boy getting getting kicked and bullied down the hallway. "That's him."

"...and my dad," Elle muttered.

George Mcfly and Daniel Phelan were walking down the corridor carrying what looked like their entire libraries in their arms. It didn't help that a couple of jerks kept on kicking and hitting them from behind. Elle felt a rush of overprotection for her father and she damn near interfered, but Doc's admonition rang through her mind. She stood by and watched helplessly as their fathers were walked on like they were doormats.

"Okay. Okay, you guys," George said. He got kicked again and laughed sarcastically. "Very funny." He turned around and Elle saw he had a "KICK ME" sign on his back with an arrow pointing at his butt. "You guys are being real mature."

Daniel also turned around. He, too, had a "KICK ME" sign, but it was accompanied with an "I'M WITH STUPID" with an arrow pointing left- to George. "Really, you guys, this is getting old, we don't like it anymore-"

"Maybe you were adopted," Doc said.

"Mcfly, Phelan!" someone barked. A bald man with heavy forehead lines walked up to the two boys. With a jolt, Elle realized it was-

"Strickland," Marty said. "Jesus, didn't that guy ever have hair?"

"Shape up, boys," Strickland said, ripping the papers off of their backs. "You are slackers. Do you want to be slackers for the rest of your lives?" Both boys murmured some kind of response, but Strickland was already walking away.

"What did your mother ever see in that kid?" Doc questioned Marty.

"I don't know, Doc," Marty replied. "I don't know. I guess she felt sorry for him because her dad hit him with the ca... hit me with the car," he finished quietly.

"That's the Florence Nightingale effect. It happens in hospitals when nurses fall in love with their patients," Doc explained. George and Daniel suddenly dropped their stuff, their books and papers flying out everywhere. "Get to it, kids." He gave them a little push.

"Hey, Daniel!" Elle said brightly, plastering a smile to her face before getting on her knees to help.

"Hey, George, buddy," Marty greeted his future father.

"Let us just help you with these books here-"

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Daniel asked her.

"Oh, I'm Brie-" she coughed into her fist. "Anne. Anne Klein. That's my brother Calvin."

Marty did a little wave. "Hey."

"We're new here, we figured you could show us around, you know, that kind of thing."

As Elle tried to engage Daniel in a decent conversation, Marty was already laying out his plan with George. "Hey, George, do you remember me? The guy who saved your life the other day?"

"Er... yeah," George said blankly, clearly not remembering. By this point they were standing up, Marty's arm slung around his father's shoulders.

"Good, because I've got someone I want you to meet..."

* * *

"Lorraine?"

Lorraine turned at the sound of her name and flattened herself on the metal lockers behind her upon seeing Marty's face. "Calvin!" she exclaimed. Two other girls flanked her, both gazing at the newcomers with interest.

"I'd like you to meet my good friend, George Mcfly," Marty said. George walked up to her and leaned on the locker next to her in a futile attempt to look cool.

"Hi, it's really a pleasure to meet..." George began, but Lorraine ignored him and took a few steps towards Marty. She reached out to touch his head. "How's your head?" Before she made contact, Marty ducked away. "Oh, I've been so worried about you ever since you ran off the other night. Are you okay?" The bell rang as soon as the words left her mouth, and her friends tugged at her to get moving.

"Come on, Lorraine, we'll be late!"

She was practically swooning. "Oh, isn't he a dreamboat?" she simpered.

Elle turned to say something to Daniel but she found he was already gone. She walked back to Doc.

"She didn't even look at him," Marty reported hopelessly.

"This is more serious than I thought," Doc replied, his eyes wide again. "Apparently, your mother is amorously infatuated with you instead of your father!"

"Whoa, wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that my mother... has got the hots for me?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Precisely!" Doc answered.

"This is heavy."

Doc frowned. "There's that word again. Heavy. Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there something wrong with the Earth's gravitational pull?"

"Doc..."

He shook his head and they continued walking down the corridor. "The only way we're going to get those two to successfully mate is if they're alone together, so you've got to get your father and mother to interact in some sort of social..." he paused, trying to find the word to describe the situation.

"What, you mean like a date?" Elle asked.

"Right!" The late bell rang. A couple of kids still hanging out in the hallway scurried away to class.

"Well, what kind of date? What do kids do in the 50's?"

"They're your parents. You must know them. What are their common interests? What do they like to do together?" Doc became distracted by a poster on the wall. He walked to it, intrigued.

Marty stood there for a few seconds. "Nothing," he realized.

"Look!" Doc said excitedly, pointing at the poster. _Saturday: Enchantment Under The Sea_ _Dance,_ it read in bright blue paint._ Be There or Be Square! _

"Of course!" Elle exclaimed. "Marty, your parents are _supposed _to go to this, it's where they kiss for the first time! It's where George introduces Daniel to my mom!"

He looked at her. "How is it that you know more about this than me?"

"Don't you ever listen to your mom during dinner? It's all she talks about."

"Alright, kids," Doc interrupted, bringing them back to business. "You stick to George like glue and make sure he takes Lorraine to that dance!"

* * *

"Elle, come on, our futures are more important."

"But Marty! Food!" She pointed at the lunch line, which was growing longer the more they argued. Students shuffled past them as they stood there idly, trying to think of what to do next.

"Brielle Phelan." His stare was reminiscent of the one her mother used to give her when she wouldn't come out of her room.

"Marty Mcfly," she retorted. "Look at my watch. It is eleven forty-five." She flashed it at him. "If I don't eat something in the next fifteen minutes I am going to beat your ass harder than Lorraine ever will in the future, so help me God."

He sighed and pulled out his wallet. "How much do you need?"

"Fifty cents," she said brightly. He deposited the coins into her open palm, defeated. "Oh, I could kiss you right now, thanks a million." Her eyes widened at what she had just said. Marty's eyebrow hitched up. "I mean, hypothetically of course. Heh." She scurried away to the line to avoid further embarassment.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. There was that feeling again, the passionate one, the rush of affection. She didn't understand how at one moment she was sulking and the next she was feeling so wonderful just because a good friend had lent her fifty cents. It didn't make sense. None of her emotions did. It was like one side of her brain was telling her that she was being stupid and the other side was telling her to go for it. She was so confused, so worried, and the only person who could help her was the cause of her problems...


End file.
